A Place Apart
by saturdayslump
Summary: A sequel to greengirl82's "Welcome to Hawaii."  What happens after Emily decides to move on?  Rated M for language and discussions of rape.


**This is dedicated to greengirl82 who was so incredibly gracious in letting me write my own sequel to her story "Welcome to Hawaii." I hope you enjoy this story, KG, as much as I enjoyed your original**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. Do I really need to tell you that?**

* * *

><p><em>Dear Emily,<em>

_I know this isn't fair, but I wanted to explain to you why I've made this decision. I know you too well, Em. You'll try to find a way to blame yourself for my decision, and I don't want you to do that. I've thought a lot about Hawaii, and I think I owe you an explanation for what's happened since we got back._

_I told you the truth that night. I do love you. I have for a while. But I have always been your colleague, even more, your boss. On top of that, I was the one who made the decision to orchestrate your death. It was my call that sent you away for all of those months. When you finally returned, I was so happy. The piece of my life that had been missing since I had you declared dead was back. But I could see that you were struggling with your return. So I offered you my friendship and support. At that time, it was all I thought I had a right to offer. It would have been wrong for me to pursue my feelings for you in any other way. Although I doubt that you would have seen it this way, pursuing you would have taken advantage of you. You were my subordinate, Emily. The way that I feel for you was wrong, and I was ashamed of those feelings. I know that I've pushed the team to high standards, but I've always held myself to even higher ones. The way I felt… it disgusted me. Not because you didn't deserve it. But because it distracted me from our work. That I would think of using my position as your boss to arrange things so that you would be by my side, that I would revel in broken dates because it meant that you wouldn't be seeing other men._

_You know about Beth, so you know I tried dating. It never worked out. I always thought of you, compared her and other women I met to you. They could never erase you from my mind. That night in Hawaii, I knew I couldn't keep going as I had. It wasn't fair to anyone. So I made my offer, such as it was, to you. You were right to turn me down, Emily. My declaration, as honest as it was, was made in jealousy. You are worth so much more than that._

_But you have decided to move on, away from me and whatever life we possibly could have made together. I don't blame you for that. I hope you find happiness. I've never met anyone who deserves it more. But I can't stay and watch you from the sidelines. I can't promise that I wouldn't use my authority as your boss to sabotage your attempts at happiness that don't include me. So, I've decided to leave. I can guess that you're blaming yourself for my decision. Don't. What's happened has been entirely my fault. I decided not to pursue you, I decided to let me jealousy lead me to declaring my feelings at the worst time. These were my choices, Em. I am not like Jason Gideon. I haven't just left at the spur of the moment. I thought this through and planned how to handle it. I know it will be a shock to everyone, but drawing out the process will be worse._

_I hope that my departure lets you find all the love and happiness you deserve. You have so much love and compassion to offer the people in your life. It's time that I step out of the way and let you find whomever it is that is lucky enough to win your heart. I can't tell you how much that I wish it were me. I'll miss you more than I can confess here. Be happy, Emily._

_Love always,_

_Aaron_

* * *

><p>Emily read the letter again, tears blurring the words on the FBI letterhead. As usual, Emily had been the first to arrive that morning. She had expected to see a light in Hotch's office, and was surprised to find it still dark. She'd assumed that it had taken him longer to get Jack to school that morning. His absence had been a bit of a relief. She knew he'd been watching her in the two weeks since Hawaii. He never said a word, just watched with a blank expression. She knew the team had picked up on his withdrawal; you can't hide much from profilers. But no one knew what he'd told her in Hawaii, and she hadn't volunteered the information.<p>

The letter had been waiting for her on her tidy desk. By habit, Emily cleaned up her work area every night before leaving. She didn't like returning to papers spread everywhere. The bright white envelope lay centered with her chair. He name had been written on the envelope, and she recognized his distinctive scrawl. At first, Emily had hesitated to open it. She had made the decision to move on from her feelings for Hotch. The letter would probably only complicate things. But no one was around to see her read it, so she took advantage of the last moments of quiet to read whatever Hotch had written. She would read the letter, deal with it, and put it away before anyone else arrived at the BAU. At least that's what she had planned.

When she finished re-reading the letter, Emily bolted up the stairs to Hotch's office. Under any other circumstances, Emily would never have invaded Hotch's personal space. Not only was she reluctant to be alone with him for fear that he would bring up what he'd said in Hawaii, but she also placed a premium on personal privacy. But this wasn't a time for consideration, and she threw open the door. Aaron's office was empty. His desk was still there, along with the bookcases and chairs, but his books, photographs, and almost every personal item was gone – even the hanger on the back of the door where he sometimes hung his suit jacket while he worked was missing. Emily rushed to the desk, dragging open the drawers. Each was empty of Hotch's belongings. Emily recognized only three personal items in the entire room, lined up on the top of the empty desk: Hotch's Bureau issued cell phone, his weapon, and his FBI credentials. They were all that was left of the man that had led the BAU for so many years.

* * *

><p><strong><em>13 months later<em>**

"We're going to Nashville," Morgan announced to the team as they gathered around the conference table to discuss the latest case needing their attention.

Following Hotch's shocking departure, Morgan had been named BAU chief. No one had been particularly surprised. He had served as their leader before, when Foyet had threatened Hotch. Morgan had proved to be a capable leader then, and this time had done what he could to push the team through Hotch's disappearance. Which is exactly what had happened. Hotch was gone. Even Strauss had tried to help find him. Word came down from the Director that he had refused Hotch's resignation, placing him on an extended leave of absence. The only contact information Hotch had provided was a P.O. Box and a number to an answering service. Morgan suspected that Garcia knew where Hotch was, but she wasn't saying anything. When no one had heard from Hotch in two months, Morgan had cornered Garcia and demanded that she tell him whatever she knew. The analyst had wept; Penelope explained to Morgan that she couldn't tell him – two days after he'd left, Hotch had called her from a disposable cell. He'd made her promise to stop looking for him, and to not reveal anything she'd found out. He'd made her swear on Jack and Henry.

After she'd promised, Hotch had apologized. "I'm sorry, Penelope. I know this is confusing and it goes against your natural inclinations to help, but it really is in everyone's best interests if you all just let me go," Hotch had told her.

"But, sir, we need you," Garcia pleaded. "You're part of this family."

"No, Penelope. You don't need me. Not like this. There's more at stake than just my presence in Quantico. Keep an eye on them for me. Okay?"

"Okay. Hotch? Please… just remember that no matter what, we still love you," she'd told him.

"So do I. Goodbye," Hotch said just before the line when dead.

"Goodbye," Garcia had whispered into the emptiness.

More than a year after their leader's abrupt disappearance, the team had changed. It was evident in the way they were interacting around the conference table, listening to the information they had so far. Rossi had essentially split Hotch's role with Morgan. While Morgan was the official team leader, making the decisions, dealing with the administrative duties of the BAU, Rossi had filled the role of senior profiler. He guided the team in gathering the information needed and putting it together to form the profiles the BAU was known for providing. He was still a writer, but he'd taken a more proactive role in the BAU, and had become an emotional sounding board for just about everyone on the team.

JJ had thrown herself into improving herself as a profiler. She'd reviewed old cases, read everything she could get her hands on. She'd picked Dave's brain on every case they'd worked in the last year. JJ had even convinced Morgan to take her on a custodial interview with him. The two agents had become an unlikely, but incredibly effective duo. Rossi had recognized as much and often suggested that they work together. That freed him up to work with Reid and Emily, the two team members that had taken Hotch's disappearance the hardest.

As when Gideon had left, Hotch's departure had shaken Spencer. The young man had lost his last mentor without an explanation, and had had a difficult time adjusting to the absence of a guiding force in his life. Rossi knew that Reid had sent letters to Hotch via the P.O. Box address, and that Reid had received only one brief answer. The note had included no information on where Hotch was or what he was doing. It had been so short, but seemed to provide some comfort to the young man.

The note, which Reid had showed him after they'd been drinking one night after a case, read simply, "Dear Reid, you are so much more than you believe yourself to be. All that's left for you to learn is to trust your feelings as much as you do your intellect. You've made such a difference in the lives you've touched. Yours, Hotch." Reid kept the note with him always, and Rossi sometimes saw him run his hand briefly over the pocket where it was hidden.

Reid had matured in the last year, shedding most of his remaining boyishness. He was quieter, more serious, but stronger than Rossi had ever thought he'd be. Dave used his quiet strength to bolster Emily.

Unlike Reid, Emily had initially seemed to accept Hotch's disappearance. Rossi suspected that she knew the reason Hotch left… and may even be the cause of it. He wasn't blind; he'd seen the way Aaron watched Emily or Emily watched Aaron when neither though anyone was looking. When Hotch left, Emily had continued on with her life. She'd thrown herself into work and indulged her private life. She'd even become involved in a long relationship with someone from naval intelligence. That relationship had lasted almost seven months. It had ended nearly six months ago, and Emily had become withdrawn since that time. Her work had not suffered, but she was quiet where she'd once been boisterous. Dave missed her energy and her humor. He'd begun to spend more time with her in the mornings before briefings or in the evening before they left for home. Frequently, Emily would disappear into her thoughts. She would be looking right at you, but she wasn't there. Reid picked up on her mental sojourns as well. When he noticed that Emily was gone, he would gently take her hand, pulling her away from whatever thoughts had captured her. Emily was always embarrassed by these mental wanderings, blushing slightly as she glanced at Reid before refocusing her attention on whatever they were doing. But the increasing frequency was starting to concern her young friend, and Reid had taken to glancing over at Rossi every time he'd been forced to pull Emily away from her thoughts.

Even more troubling, Emily had lost weight. Not a big woman to begin with, the weight loss was particularly evident in Emily's face. Her large, dark eyes now seemed enormous in her thin face. Her figure had trimmed down as well. She was still strong and fit, but without the softness that Rossi had always found so appealing. Pale violet smudges frequently shadowed her eyes, a testament to the insomnia she'd eventually confessed to having. Emily was rapidly reaching her breaking point. A series of brutal cases, primarily involving children, had pushed Emily that much closer to the edge. Her natural gift with kids, her ability to gain their trust and confidence, had led the team to lean on her innate skills. She had been the team member that had conducted most of the survivor interviews, and Dave knew she was haunted by their stories. Yesterday, he'd caught her staring out the window at the lush campus of Quantico. Emily had stood motionless for almost twenty minutes, her eyes focused on some spot beyond the trees that sheltered the grounds. She'd been so far away, and Rossi had been afraid that soon even Reid's silent strength and friendship wouldn't be enough to pull Emily back to them. But when she'd snapped back to the present, Rossi knew she had come to some sort of decision and he'd wondered if she'd tell him what it was.

"Okay, Garcia," Morgan instructed. "What's going on in Nashville?"

"Well, there's been a series of home invasions in the last three weeks," the analyst began. "There were two, one per week the first two weeks, but in the last eight days, there have been two more."

"He's escalating," JJ said.

"He's escalating more than the police in Nashville realize. I went back through reports for home invasions for the last two years. There are numerous reports, but there are four that fit our unsub's pattern," Garcia told them.

"Which is what?" Reid asked.

"The unsub breaks into the home of a family with a daughter between the ages of 15-17. The girl is restrained first, then the father is killed. The mother is then taken to her daughter's room where she is also restrained. The unsub then assaults and kills the mother in front of the daughter… then he rapes and murders the teenagers."

"There have been eight home invasion homicides following this pattern in the last two years, and no one in Nashville put it together?" Dave asked incredulously.

"Not exactly," Garcia admitted. "In the four earlier instances, there was a home invasion, but no homicide. In the earliest, a 16 year old girl reported that she discovered a strange man fondling her underwear and masturbating in her bedroom. He took off when she woke up, and he was never found. Six months later, a 15 year old girl was discovered bound and gagged by her mother when the mom went to wake her up from school. The girl reported that she woke up when she heard someone rifling through her drawers. The assailant told her that if she made a noise he would kill her and her parents. He then bound and gagged her and masturbated on her. Four months later, another 16 year old girl reported a similar incident, only the unsub actually removed the underwear the girl was wearing. Three months after that, and two months before the first homicide, a 17 year old girl reported a similar incident, although she reported that she had been raped."

"That is serious escalation. From breaking and entering and masturbation, to kidnapping, sexual assault, and murder," JJ frowned. This unsub was rapidly evolving. He was too bold… "I think he's devolving. We could be looking at a spree soon."

"I agree," Morgan said. "We leave in twenty minutes."

The team filed out until only Garcia and Emily were left. Garcia was gathering the files, making sure none of the gruesome crime scene photos were left out for any of the other agents to see. Her team may have to see those images, but she would do what she could to protect everyone else from them.

Emily was so quiet that at first Garcia didn't even realize she was still in the room. When Emily said her name, the analyst jumped in surprise. "Emily! I thought you'd left with everyone else. What's up?"

"Penelope, when we get back from Nashville, I need you to help me find him," Emily told her without preamble.

Garcia blanched. She didn't pretend not to know who Emily was talking about. "Em… I can't. I promised him I wouldn't."

"I'm sorry, PG, but you're going to have to break your promise. I need you to find him. You're the only person I know who can."

"No, Emily."

"Then you need to find a way to contact him. I need to talk to him." Emily was becoming agitated now. It was the most animated that Penelope had seen her in months. Her pale skin was flushed a delicate pink and her eyes were sparkling with life.

"Emily… I just can't. I swore to him that I wouldn't, not for any reason."

"Penelope, if you won't help me, I'll find someone who will. I will leave the Bureau if I have to."

"Em…"

"When I get back, PG. I want the information or a way to contact him when I get back," Emily said before leaving the conference room.

"Oh, hell," Garcia whispered. "What do I do?"

* * *

><p>The flight to Nashville had been relatively brief and completely uneventful. They had discussed the case more; this time, Emily had batted around ideas with the rest of the team. They agreed that in all likelihood they were looking for a young man in his thirties, a loner who was above average in intelligence, but an underachiever. Garcia joined them via laptop, but studiously avoided eye contact or conversation with Emily. Just before she had signed off with the team, Emily had given her one long look, which Garcia pointedly ignored. The entire team noticed their deliberate lack of interaction, though no one commented on it. Morgan and Rossi did exchange a quick look of concern.<p>

As they prepared for the final descent into Nashville, Rossi's phone beeped, indicating a new text message. It was from Penelope. His eyebrow rose as he read it.

"Need help ASAP. Em wants me to find Hotch. What do I do?"

Rossi waited until Morgan, Reid, and JJ had filed off the plane. As Emily passed him, he snagged her wrist, stopping her.

"I don't know what's going on with you, _Cara_, but leave Penelope out of it," he told her.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Dave."

"Don't lie to me, Emily. We've always been able to be honest with one another. I don't know what's been going on in your head the last few days, but I know you've made some decisions. I respect you enough to wait until you're ready to talk about it. But don't insult me by lying."

Emily opened her mouth then shut it before she spoke. She sighed hugely, closing her eyes in frustration. When she opened them again, she told him what little of the truth she was ready to divulge. "I need to see him, Dave."

"He left for a reason, Emily. He may not want to talk."

"I know. But I have to try."

Rossi examined her closely. She was pale and the signs of insomnia marred her delicate features. But there was passion in her face too, a determination that had been missing for months. "Alright. We'll figure something out then. But you can't ask Garcia to break her promise to Hotch. It's the only thing he asked of any of us."

Emily sighed, knowing that Dave was right. "Okay."

"Come on, kiddo, the others are probably waiting on us," Rossi told her. With his hand on her back, Dave guided her into the bright sunshine of a Nashville spring day.

* * *

><p>The west precinct in Nashville was crowded, noisy, and busy. The BAU team was quickly ushered into a conference room set aside for their use. Detective Ross, their primary contact, greeted each of the team, including Reid, who'd finally gotten over his aversion to handshakes.<p>

"Thank you all for coming. We really need your help," he told them.

"We're glad to do what we can," Morgan told him. "I'd like to see the latest crime scene, as soon as possible."

"Absolutely. Our consultant said we should do what we could to preserve the scene for you."

"Consultant?"

"Yeah, there's a local guy who helps the police when area cops get cases like this. After the first murder, he suggested that we contact you, but the Chief didn't want to bring in the FBI. It wasn't until after the latest murders that I was able to convince the Chief that the consultant was right."

"Who's the consultant?" Rossi wanted to know.

"I don't actually know. We do a lot by email or over the phone, so I've never met him. I know he teaches some classes over at Vanderbilt. I've got his card around here somewhere. I can get it for you if you'd like."

"Please. We'll want to talk to him. If he went to any of the previous scenes, it might be helpful if we got his insight," Morgan told the detective. "Reid, Emily, go see the consultant. JJ and I will head to the last scene. Dave, stay here and go through the evidence from the previous crimes. Talk to the medical examiner too. See what we can learn from that angle."

JJ and Morgan headed out to the latest crime scene on the western edges of the city. When Detective Ross returned, he gave the card to Emily. There was nothing remarkable about it, except that it didn't include the man's name. It read only "Criminal Behavioral Consulting," with a local telephone number, an address in Green Hills, one of the nicer areas of Nashville, and a generic email address. Emily and Reid headed out to the consultant's address, while Rossi and Detective Ross went to the morgue.

On the way to the address listed on the card, they speculated about who the consultant could be. Neither knew of any behavioral experts in the area. They arrived at the address, surprised to find themselves in front of a home instead of a business. When they rang the doorbell, the quiet house exploded in noise. They could hear from within the manic bark of a dog which quieted only when some shouted over the din.

"Damn it, Rufus! Shut the hell up, you idiot!" a female voice told the dog. Despite the language, the voice was melodic, with just a hint of magnolia blossoms. Suddenly, the door was wrenched open and Reid and Emily were greeted by a young woman with a sleek cap of dark auburn hair and golden brown eyes. She only opened the door far enough to stick her head out, but Emily and Reid could see the dog trying to fight its way to the door to check out the potential intruders.

"Hello! Hold on a sec," she said as she struggled to keep the massive dog from knocking her over with his enormous tail. "Jesus, Rufus. Sit down!" At her command, the dog plopped onto his rump, his tail swishing like a pendulum across the floor of the entry way. "Okay," the redhead told them, "sorry about that. He's basically harmless, but he gets excited about visitors and will knock people down if you don't watch him. How about you come in, so I don't have to worry about him making a run for it?" She opened the door wider and gestured them inside. When Reid hesitated, clearly unnerved by the dog, Emily pushed him forward.

"So, what can I do for you two? You are definitely not from around here. You're not selling anything are you, because, whatever it is, we are not buying."

Emily was unexpectedly and utterly charmed by the young woman's kind frankness. "Uh, we're not selling anything. My name is Special Agent Emily Prentiss and this is Dr. Spencer Reid. We're with the FBI," Emily showed the young woman her credentials and smiled a bit has her large eyes got even bigger at the sight.

"Holy crap!"

"We're working with the local police on an investigation and they gave us the business card for Criminal Behavioral Consultants. We understand that the owner lives here," Emily explained.

"Right! Sorry, again. I'm Sarah Ruth," the young woman said, offering a slim, pale hand. Despite her small size, Sarah Ruth had a firm handshake. "Okay, let me go get Aaron, he's who you'll want to talk to," she said before turning toward the back of the house.

"AARON!" she shouted. "There are some people from the police here to see you!" She turned back to them with a smile, having missed their shared look.

When her back had been turned, Emily had looked over at Reid and mouthed, "Aaron?" Reid had simply shaken his head in confusion. Surely, Sarah Ruth wasn't talking about Hotch.

But a familiar voice, approaching from the rear of the house, proved Reid wrong. "What is it, Sarah Ruth? Did you say something about the police?" Hotch asked as he emerged from a back hallway. When he spotted the guests in his home he froze in place. "Emily? Reid?"

Like Hotch, Emily froze. Her heart leapt inside her chest, but she couldn't make a sound. She stared at her former boss, amazed to see him. She'd only just decided that she needed to see him… and here he was. She couldn't believe it. For a moment, she thought she might actually be hallucinating. It wasn't the first time she'd thought she'd seen him somewhere. Emily took several shambling steps towards Hotch then froze again.

"Emily…" Hotch whispered.

While Hotch and Emily were wrapped up in their sudden reappearance in one another's lives, and Sarah Ruth was wrapped up in the drama playing out before her, Reid discretely pulled out his phone and called Rossi.

He didn't wait for Dave's greeting. "Rossi, you need to get to the consultant's house. Now," Reid told him.

"What's up, Reid?"

"It's Hotch. The consultant is Hotch. And Emily is… I don't know what she is."

For a moment, there was silence on the other end of the line. "Did you say Hotch?"

"Yes, Rossi, I said Hotch. Now, for god's sake, get over here."

"I'll be there shortly," Rossi told him before disconnecting.

"What are you doing here?" Hotch asked. He took several more steps toward Emily, reaching out towards her. When he realized what he was doing, Hotch stopped and lowered his arm.

Emily continued to stare at him dumbfounded, so Reid filled the void. "Metro PD called us to help with the home invasion homicides involving the teenage girls," Reid said, drawing Hotch's attention to him. It was obvious that Hotch had forgotten his presence.

"Oh. Right."

"Detective Ross said that you'd consulted with them and encouraged them to call us in," Reid continued.

"Yes, I did. I didn't realize they had called." Hotch's gaze occasionally drifted to Reid, as if he had to keep reminding himself that the young doctor was present. But he remained transfixed by Emily's presence. Aaron's eyes followed her every movement, even as she shifted her slight weight from foot to foot.

Sarah Ruth cleared her throat. "Ahem. Um, how about y'all have a seat and I'll get everyone something to drink. Coffee? Tea? Something cold?" She offered, remembering the gracious aspects of being a hostess that her grandmother and aunts had tried to teach her.

"I'd like coffee please, with sugar," Reid smiled at her. When Emily didn't speak up, Reid requested tea for her.

* * *

><p>When Sarah Ruth returned from the kitchen with the tray of drinks and snacks, she found the FBI agents and her boss seated in the formal living room – or what her grandmother would have called the ladies' parlor. In her mind, they couldn't have chosen a worst place to sit. It was a beautiful room, but the furniture was uptight and incredibly uncomfortable. Recognizing the awkward tension, Sarah Ruth pulled out her warmest manners in an effort to put everyone at ease. She did not deal well with tension.<p>

"Here we are," she said with a smile, placing the heavy tray on the low table next to the settee where Agent Prentiss and Dr. Reid were sitting. "I wasn't sure how you liked your tea, Agent Prentiss."

Emily tore her eyes away from Aaron and looked over at the young woman. "Oh, black's fine. Thank you. And please call me Emily."

"I'll just head over to my apartment, Aaron. Buzz if you need anything," Sarah Ruth said as she started to exit.

"No, Sarah Ruth, you should stay," Aaron told her. "You might be helpful." He turned to the other two, "Sarah Ruth rents the apartment over the garage. She's a grad student at Vanderbilt studying behavior. She was in a class that I taught last summer."

"What he means is that I annoyed the hell out of him with a million questions and challenged everything he told us for four weeks," Sarah Ruth interjected. "But it was the best class I've had and it really helped with my thesis, which I'll be presenting in three weeks." Sarah Ruth smiled smugly at the thought. She was almost done and would have her second doctorate.

Reid's interest was piqued. "What's your thesis on?"

"The sociopathy and resulting psychological dichotomy of anger-excitation rapists," Sarah Ruth told him. Both agents blinked at her in shock. "I've been studying the psychology of criminal behavior with a sexual based component for a few years," she explained.

"How did you decide to focus on that?" Reid asked curiously.

Hotch opened his mouth to answer for her, but Sarah Ruth shook him off. "It's okay, Aaron. I don't mind him asking." She turned to Reid, "When I was 3, my mother and I were attacked in our home. He kept me pretty much drugged so I slept through most of it, but he tortured and raped my mother. He then beat her nearly to death. She suffered severe brain damage. She's in a facility just south of here," Sarah Ruth explained to Reid. At the young doctor's look of horror, Sarah Ruth leaned forward and put her hand on his arm. "Don't, Dr. Reid. Your curiosity is natural enough, and I'm not offended by your interest." Her words soothed his conscious and he nodded his acknowledgment. "Frankly, my family thinks my studies are morbid. When I was a kid, no one would talk about what happened. I had more questions than answers and the questions started giving me nightmares. When I went to university, it gave me the opportunity to ask questions, to get information about what happened and why. I'll never have all the answers I want, I know that. But I've learned things that maybe can help prevent what happened to my mother from happening to someone else… and that's good enough for me."

"So, you'll be Dr. Sarah Ruth?" Reid asked.

Sarah Ruth laughed. "I'm sorry; I never did introduce myself completely. I'm Sarah Ruth Fentell."

"And she's already Dr. Fentell," Hotch added.

Sarah Ruth flushed. Emily smiled at the young woman's obvious embarrassment and sympathized with the pale skin that was an emotional barometer that could be read by anyone.

"Shut up, Aaron," she grumbled good-naturedly. "I already have a PhD in history," she explained. Before she could elaborate, the doorbell rang and Rufus, who had passed out behind the settee awoke with a start, barking as if all the demons in hell were on the doorstep.

"It's probably Dave," Reid said. "I called him when we found out that you were the consultant we were looking for."

Sarah Ruth went to answer the door, Rufus bounding behind her, and the mood shifted back to uncomfortable awkwardness. Hotch and Emily each peeked over at one another, but glanced quickly away when they briefly locked eyes. For several minutes, it had been as if the last year hadn't happened. They had been able to chat as if they were picking up a conversation they'd been having the day before. Dave's arrival broke that easy spell, reminding them of all that had happened and that Emily and Reid were sitting in Hotch's home in Nashville for a consult on a case they were working without him.

When Dave Rossi entered the formal living room, Aaron rose to greet him. "Dave," he said with a smile, holding out a hand. Dave took it, grinning hugely.

"Aaron. It's good to see you… although I would have thought that after a year away you would have looked better than this," Dave half-teased. In truth, Aaron Hotchner looked much the same as he had when he'd been the Unit Chief of the BAU. He was still lean and trim; it was obvious that he had continued running. There was still no gray in his hair, which stoked a bit of envy in Rossi, whose hair had started going gray in earnest two years before. But there was still tightness around Aaron's eyes and, like Emily, his face was too thin and his eyes were shadowed.

"Can I get you something to drink, Agent Rossi?" Sarah Ruth offered.

"No, thank you."

Once they were all settled again, and Rufus has once again passed out behind the settee, the group finally got down to the purpose of the visit.

Dave took the lead in broaching the subject, "Detective Ross said that you had been consulting on this case."

"Yes, they came to me at the university after the first homicide. I was given limited access to some of the information, the crime scene photographs, and made a very cursory assessment based on the little information I was given. I told them they should contact the BAU."

"And they didn't?" Emily asked.

"No. The politics of the police department here in Nashville are very complicated… probably the most complicated I've ever seen, even in bigger cities. When I read about the second set of homicides in the paper, and contacted the Deputy Chief over at the West Precinct. I told him that whoever was doing this was escalating too quickly and they were going to end up with a lot of bodies on their hands if they didn't reach out the BAU."

"Did you get to see the crime scenes?" Reid wanted to know.

"Yes, they let me see the second and third. After the fourth set of homicides, the police chief finally took my advice and called you."

"What can you tell us about the earlier scenes?" Rossi asked.

"Why don't we go back to my office," Hotch directed. "I've got my notes and preliminary assessment back there."

With the small group assembled in the office, they went over the notes that Hotch had taken at the second and third crime scenes. He also shared his notes based on the information provided to him regarding the first set of homicides. The BAU agents revealed to him the information that Garcia had uncovered regarding the four crimes preceding the homicides. Dave asked Hotch to come with them back to the West Precinct to help analyze any new information from the most recent crime scene and develop the profile.

Hotch agreed, insisting that Sarah Ruth join them. Sarah Ruth offered to ride in the SUV with Reid and Dave and tell them stories about Professor Hotchner, discretely giving Aaron and Emily the chance to ride together. Emily smiled gratefully at the younger woman as the trio piled into the SUV and pulled away from the house, leaving her alone with Hotch. Despite wanting the chance to speak with him alone, nerves suddenly paralyzed her. Emily wasn't frequently at a loss for words, but suddenly found herself without a clue as to how to proceed. She'd thought so much about the possibility of seeing Hotch again, but not what she would say once she had the chance.

Hotch was the one who broke the awkward silence in the car. "So… how have you been?" he asked.

"Fine. I've been fine. How have you been?" Emily returned.

"I've been okay."

Silence engulfed them again. The tension started to eat away at Emily's mask of confidence, and she began picking at her nails, something she hadn't done since well before Hotch had disappeared. Aaron noticed her nervous tic and reached over, stilling her movements by enclosing her hands in his.

"Don't, Em," he said gently. "You don't need to be nervous around me."

"I am, though. I shouldn't be. I should be furious… the way you just left. You just walked away, Aaron, from me and Spence and everyone. You left a letter on my desk and disappeared at night when no one was around. You never returned any of our phone calls and you only answered one of Spence's letters. I know that Garcia and JJ wrote to you, and Dave and Morgan left you messages."

"You didn't," Aaron said, a note of sadness in his accusation.

"I did, I just never sent them."

"Why not?"

"What good would it have done?"

"I don't know." Aaron was silent for a long while. "I thought I was doing the right thing, Emily. You told me needed to move on. I wanted that for you. I wanted you to be happy and get whatever it was that you wanted… but I didn't want to have to stand by and watch you fall in love with someone else."

"I did," Emily argued, becoming irritated with his justification for abandoning the team.

"No, Emily, you didn't. I was never in love with anyone else. When you first came to the BAU, I was still married, and I loved my wife. I don't know that I was in love with her any more, but I did still love her. Then my marriage imploded and my career was basically set into a holding pattern. I would have the BAU, but Strauss would make sure I never advanced. When I was able to pull my life back together… you were there. I saw you, not just as an agent, or a subordinate, or a colleague. I saw you as a woman – beautiful, intelligent, fun… everything anyone could have ever wanted. But you **were** my subordinate! I was responsible for you! And then everything with Foyet happened, and you were still there. I wanted you so much, Emily. Not just physically, but I wanted to talk to you, to tell you about Jack, to ask you what you thought I should do to help him… to tell you about how guilty I felt about Haley. But it was wrong. My ex wife had just been murdered, my son needed me, I was struggling to retake my place in the team… and you were still my subordinate. I thought about you when I should have been thinking about the cases we were working! When I finally thought maybe I could do it, maybe I could reach out to you, Doyle came back into your life. You shut everyone, including me, out. Then I gave the order to fake your death. I had you sent away… when you came back, I didn't think you would be able to forgive me for that." Hotch paused, took a breath. "When you came back, I didn't think you would want me after what I'd done. And I knew that you were having problems. I tried to do the right thing, to be your friend and offer you support when you were willing to accept help. I thought it was the most I would ever get from you."

Listening to his confession, hearing the obvious guilt behind his words, Emily began to understand his position a bit better. She was definitely still angry with him, but she could appreciate how his feelings must have scraped against his rigid concepts of what was right and wrong for a man in his position. But Hotch wasn't done with his confession.

"When I started seeing Beth…" he said.

"Hotch, don't…" Emily tried to interrupt.

"No, you need to know," he told her. "When I started seeing Beth, I thought it was because I would never have the chance to be with you. I didn't think you could ever return my feelings or that even if you did, I would ever be able to do anything about it. I was your boss, Emily! What kind of position would that have put you in if I had tried to pursue something with you? You were trying to rebuild your reputation in the Bureau!"

Hotch paused, taking a deep breath and trying to calm himself. He knew he was becoming too emotional, but he needed Emily to understand. "But Beth wasn't you. At first, I thought I could ignore it, all the little things that weren't right about her. But the more I was around her, the more difficult I found it. I couldn't share things with her; she didn't understand the job and was increasingly frustrated about the nightmares, the time away. We started fighting… so I ended it with her. I wanted something she was never going to be able to give. I needed her understanding, someone to listen, someone who would share the burden of what we do. But she couldn't give me that. I knew you were the only person who could. In Hawaii, I saw that you were moving on with your life… I was so afraid and so damn jealous. I knew that any man with half a brain was going to see how amazing you were, and that would be it. So, I got you alone and, like a complete idiot, threw myself at you. I don't blame you for pushing me away, for going out and seeing what kind of life you could have with someone who wasn't so afraid of loving you. But after… when we got back, I knew you were getting out, trying to date. I couldn't just stand around watch. It was killing me. I was watching everything I wanted move further and further away because of my own cowardice. I wanted you to be happy, but I didn't want to have to watch it. So I left."

Emily had listened to his confession silently, an occasional tear spilling through her thick lashes. By the time he finished, they had arrived at the police station and there wasn't time for her to speak.

"Hotch, when this is over… when this is over, we need to talk," she told him.

"I know."

* * *

><p>In the precinct, when Hotch had greeted JJ and Morgan, the team easily slid back into the dynamic they had previously enjoyed. Ideas and information flowed among the group, which had easily adopted Sarah Ruth into its vaunted circle. When they contacted Garcia to ferret out information on a possible suspect, the analyst cried when she saw Hotch. When his face filled the screen of the laptop, Penelope had shrieked before dissolving in tears and swearing she hadn't broken her promise to him.<p>

"I know you haven't, Penelope," he told her.

"Oh, sir, it's so good to see you again," she gushed through her tears.

"It's good to see you again too, Garcia. Please stop crying. You'll make Sarah Ruth think I'm a bully."

"You are a bully, Aaron," Sarah Ruth quipped without glancing away from the evidence report she was examining with JJ.

"Who's that?" Garcia wanted to know.

"Sarah Ruth Fentell. She was one of the students I taught last summer, and she rents the apartment above my garage," Hotch told Penelope. At the determined set of her jaw, Hotch grinned and added, "You don't need to run her, Garcia. I've already had her checked out."

"Oh, well… I just want to make sure you and Jack are okay."

"We're fine, both of us. And, Penelope? Thank you," Hotch told her before disconnecting the link.

They worked for another few hours before Sarah Ruth announced that she needed to go pick up Jack from school. After she left, Hotch and the BAU agents continued to work, whittling down information and developing a suspect pool, while Emily interviewed the victims from the four earlier crimes that Garcia had identified. It was a grueling process, and Emily was already emotionally raw from her unexpected encounter with Hotch. Working through the girls' shame, holding their hands as they cried, bolstering their self-esteem when they blamed themselves for what happened, exhausted her. At the end of the day, she was ready to collapse. What color had been in her face had long since drained away, darkening the shadows under her eyes.

When they decided to stop for the evening, the team felt that they were close to a break through, but they also knew that they were nearing the end of their physical abilities and needed to recharge. Hotch called home to check in with Sarah Ruth and Jack, and when he returned he offered them a meal at his home and the opportunity to stay there rather than at a hotel. He remembered the dissatisfaction and discomfort of impersonal hotel rooms, and how that much more difficult they made getting decent rest when dealing with a difficult case. Besides, these were his friends… even if he hadn't seen them in over a year.

Even though everyone was nearly ready to drop, dinner chez Hotchner was a boisterous affair. Jack was thrilled to see all of his "aunts" and "uncles" again. Eventually, Sarah Ruth had to drag the boy up to her apartment so he would settle down for the evening. Soon after, everyone else drifted off as well, the promise of an early start in the morning luring them into the rooms they were sharing. Reid and Morgan were sleeping in the bunk beds in Jack's room, and Emily and JJ where sharing the king size bed in the guest room. Rossi had drawn the privilege of sleeping solo on the bed that unfolded from the couch in the family room.

* * *

><p>Emily was only mildly shocked that she'd been able to sleep through most of the night. She'd been plagued by insomnia for months, so regular sleep was something she'd thought she'd have to do without. But she'd been incredibly tired the night before. Even though she'd woken before dawn, she'd managed to get nearly 5 hours of sleep, the most she'd gotten in a single stretch since before she'd started seeing Commander Jeffries in Naval Intelligence. While the house was still quiet, she wandered from her room and into the backyard. It was still dark enough to see the stars and she marveled at their brightness. Without warning, an enormous weight crashed into her from behind, sending her sprawling into the dew damp grass. Emily was momentarily terrified, but a deep woof and the swipe of a slobbering tongue took the edge off her terror.<p>

"Dammit, Rufus!" Emily heard Sarah Ruth hiss in the darkness. At least Emily thought it was Sarah Ruth. Rufus had decided to flop his entire weight across her face, and the voice was muffled. But the massive bulk of the dog was suddenly jerked away, and Sarah Ruth was peering down at Emily with concern. "Oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn't know anyone else was out here, or I would have kept a better eye on him." Sarah Ruth offered her hand to Emily, and the older woman gratefully accepted it.

"It's alright. He's heavy, but harmless," Emily told her as Rufus rolled over from his prone position in the grass to lick Emily's hand in devotion. "He's definitely a bit gross though," she added, wiping the slobber onto her pajama pants. "You're up early."

"Not really. I got a solid 5 hours, which is pretty good for me. I probably would have slept another hour, but Rufus was making such a racket begging to go outside that I was afraid he'd wake Jack."

"Is he still asleep?"

"Yeah, that kid could sleep through a zombie apocalypse."

They stood together in the cool spring morning, watching as Rufus wandered from tree to tree in the backyard. Emily could tell that Sarah Ruth was struggling with something, and waited for her to get to it.

After several silent minutes, Sarah Ruth blurted out, "Please don't hurt him."

Confused, Emily turned to the redhead, "What?"

"Aaron. I know there's something going on… so does everyone else. I just… whatever you do, please don't hurt him."

"Are you in love with Aaron, Sarah Ruth?" Emily asked gently.

"What? No! He's about old enough to be my dad! Ew… I mean, Aaron's good looking and all, but I prefer to stay closer to my own age bracket. I do love him. He's been good to me, kind of took me under his wing, even though I annoyed the crap out of him at first. He's included me in his family… I don't know what happened between the two of you. Aaron doesn't talk about his personal life much. But he doesn't date. He has some casual friends that he socializes with, but in the year he's been here, Aaron hasn't been on a single date, and there are a lot of ladies at Jack's school and the moms from soccer that have tried to catch his attention. I thought maybe he was gay, but… now that I've met you, I get it." Sarah Ruth looked over at Emily who was staring at her intently. The younger woman was unsure of how to broach this with Emily Prentiss, but wanted to get it said before she chickened out. "I think he's in love with you, and I don't think you realize how much power that gives you right now. You could break him if you aren't careful. If you aren't in love with him, don't string him along, Emily. He has the right to try to be happy."

Emily looked away then, unable to maintain Sarah Ruth's intense stare. "I know," she whispered. "But I'm afraid. Things have changed so much… I'm not the same person I was. Maybe he won't want me now."

Sarah Ruth snorted at that. "Yeah right. Emily, he stares at you every time you walk by. If you aren't standing next to him, he checks to see where you are and if you're ok, if you need anything. When you talk, he listens like he expects gold coins to fall from your mouth. I'm about 106% certain that he wants you." Emily blushed a bit at that and gave Sarah Ruth a half smile. "I've got to get Jack up," she told the brunette. "Think about what I said. I know you have a job to do while you're here, but maybe you can deal with whatever's between the two of you before you go back to D.C."

Emily gave the young woman a nod, and Sarah Ruth called Rufus to her before heading up to the apartment over the garage. As dawn began to lighten the sky, Emily thought about Sarah Ruth's request and what she would say to Hotch when the case was over. She thought about what she'd decided in D.C. and how that fit with where she was now. Although she had been so certain before she left Quantico, Emily was now nervous. She was afraid that too much time had passed, that their lives were too far apart, that, despite what Sarah Ruth had said, Hotch had moved on. _Soon_, she thought to herself. Soon enough she would tell him.

* * *

><p>Once they got a jump on the day, things moved rapidly. Hotch was giving a lecture at 9:00 a.m., but promised to join his former colleagues at the precinct once it was over. Sarah Ruth, not wanting to intrude, had initially intended to wait until Hotch had joined them before offering to help again. But over a quick breakfast, Rossi requested that she join them, noting that her recent studies might prove useful. No one objected to his request, and to Sarah Ruth's amusement, JJ took the opening as an opportunity to grill her on what she knew about sexual sadists. The petite blonde agent may have looked like Tinkerbell, but she was as relentless as a terrier after a rat.<p>

When Hotch joined them, the team was turning onto a new avenue in the investigation based on something Sarah Ruth had said.

"I'm sorry, but this whole thing makes no sense," she said, thinking aloud.

"What do you mean?" Morgan wanted to know.

"Well, his earlier break-ins are typical of a power-reassurance rapist. Chances are there are similar cases of breaking and entering, but the victims either don't know it happened, or are too embarrassed to come forward," she told him.

"Okay. So, what doesn't make sense?"

"These latest crimes aren't those of a power-reassurance rapist. They're classic anger-excitation crimes. Binding the daughter; killing the father; binding, assaulting, and killing the mother in front of the daughter; raping and murdering the daughter. Those aren't the actions of a power-reassurance rapist," Sarah Ruth declared.

"I see what you mean," Morgan told her.

"So, what happened to trigger this? I mean, even the first rape didn't display this level of sadism. So what triggered this drastic shift in behavior and the rapid escalation?"

"Maybe we're looking for someone younger than we initially expect," JJ posited. "Based on the victims' ages and the sophistication of the crimes, we thought we were looking for someone who was relatively mature. But what if that's where this unsub deviates from pattern?"

"The power-reassurance aspects would better fit a younger, sexually immature man," Emily said. "What if we're missing a crime? A crime that bridges the gap between these two?" she said, indicating the first rape and the first homicides. Without waiting for anyone's comment, Emily contacted Garcia on the laptop sitting on the table. "PG, can you check the surrounding counties for a victim of an assault, possibly sexual assault, but not rape? The victim would be a teenage girl, maybe someone in her early twenties, living at home. She would have fought her assailant, made enough noise to wake her family."

"Gimme a sec, Em… Yeah, here we go. In Williamson County, which is just south of Nashville. David R. Sanders was arrested following an attack on an eighteen year old girl. The girl woke up to find Sanders in her room. She's a brown belt in karate and tried to fight him off. He started choking her to keep quiet, but they'd made enough noise to wake her parents. Sanders assaulted them as well and tried to get away, but wasn't able to. He was arrested only a few blocks from the home. He had the girl's underwear in his pocket," Garcia told them, as she read off the salient information, shuddering at the how creepy the guy was.

"What's he doing out, Garcia?" Reid wanted to know.

"Looks like he made bail. The girl was really shaken and refused to cooperate on the sexual assault charges. He was only charged with battery… looks like his daddy has money and serious connections. Got him released a few hours after his arrest."

"Where is he now, Garcia?" Rossi demanded.

Garcia clattered away at her keyboard for a moment. "He should be in class, sir."

"Class?"

"Yeah, he's a student over at Belmont University. I'm shooting his schedule to you."

* * *

><p>Two hours later, David Sanders was behind bars. A search of his home had revealed 15 pairs of ladies' underwear, a journal detailing his activities, and photographs and videos of the victims of his last four crimes. Based on the evidence and the severity of the crimes, the prosecuting attorney in Nashville was determined that he wouldn't be released on bail this time.<p>

As he had the night before, Hotch invited the BAU agents to his home for a meal and a comfortable place to sleep before they headed back to Quantico in the morning. The meal was not as boisterous as their previous dinner had been. The specter of leaving Hotch hung over the house, although no one wanted to be the first to bring it up. But they were able to talk and laugh, giving Hotch updates on all of their lives: Morgan's latest girlfriend, little Henry's antics at pre-school, Dave's newest book. Even Reid could boast of new events – he'd actually gone on a date. It had been a disaster that ended with the girl ditching him in a restaurant.

As the evening passed, they drifted off to their beds, until only Hotch and Emily were sitting in the kitchen. They didn't say anything as they heard Dave settle into the fold out bed in the living room. Instead, they moved quietly around one another, a delicate ballet of physical avoidance, as they cleaned up the mess from dinner. Every now and then, one would brush against the other and they would stop briefly and stare, before looking away and resuming their clean up duties. Finally, when the last of the dishes was loaded into the dishwasher, they could hear Rossi's soft snores coming from the living room.

"Come outside with me," Hotch requested, holding out his hand to her. Emily slipped her hand into his and they headed for the deck just off the kitchen. It was a clear, still night. Every now and then the phosphorescent yellow glow of a lightning bug would blaze in the darkness then disappear. Hotch pulled Emily over to a wooden glider that sat on the edge of the deck farthest from the house. They sat together in silence, gently rocking back and forth.

"I'm sorry," Emily whispered into the darkness.

Hotch glanced sharply over at her. "What? Why?" Fear raced through his blood at her words, and panic sweat broke out across his brow. _I'm going to lose her again_, he thought.

"For Hawaii. For what I said to you."

"No, Emily. Don't be sorry for your feelings. You were right in Hawaii. I'd screwed around, pushed you away for years. You had every right to look for happiness that I wouldn't give."

They sat in silence, comfortable to just be together in the peaceful night. But the demons of his curious nature, got the better of Aaron and he couldn't stop himself from asking, "Did you ever…?"

"Did I ever what?"

"Did you find the happiness you were looking for?"

"With McGarrett?"

"Yeah, with him. Or anyone."

"I knew things weren't going anywhere with McGarrett, Hotch. I went out with him because I knew that I couldn't wait any more. I needed to stop waiting for you. It was like a slow death. A little piece of me would wither away every day that I stood on the sidelines and watched you live your life away from me. I couldn't keep doing it to myself."

"I am so sorry, Emily. I am so sorry I wouldn't man up enough to admit my feelings for you. That I pushed you away into some half existence. You deserve so much more than that…"

"I do, Hotch. I deserve more than that… so I went after it. After you left, I was so pissed at you. God dammit, Aaron, you just left. If I'd known where you were, I would have kicked your ass," Emily declared. She looked over at Hotch and caught him smiling at her anger and slugged him in the shoulder.

"Ow!"

"Stop smiling! I was so angry with you, Aaron. But more… I was hurt. I needed to be happy, and you ripped yourself out of my life because I wouldn't just fall at your feet. Did you ever think for just a second about what it would be like for me if you left? Jesus, Hotch, you were the only one who knew I was still having problems dealing with what happened with Doyle."

"Oh, Emily… I'm so sorry. I never thought about that. I figured that you'd moved on completely. That you'd find someone that you'd want to share that with… I thought you didn't need me anymore."

"I thought I didn't. After you left, I met someone. He was with Naval Intelligence. I thought… I don't know. I thought maybe I was moving on. But I wasn't, not really. At first, things were good. He was there for me; he understood that my job sometimes required me to be away without a lot of communication. But I started having nightmares again, insomnia… the cases were getting to me. I couldn't put it away like before. I knew I needed to talk to someone and I thought that Sam and I had gotten to a point where we could share our secrets, lean on one another. So, I told him about Doyle."

Hotch knew that wherever this story went, it wouldn't end well. Already he was fighting the need to ball his hands into fists and swing them at the absent Sam Jeffries. "What happened?"

"He was appalled… not by what had happened to me, but by what I'd done. I thought, given what he did, he would understand. But he didn't, and he didn't look at me the same after that. When he started taking two days to return my calls, I broke things off with him."

Emily stopped her recitation when she thought she heard him mumble "fucking asshole." A tiny laughing sob escaped at that. "Yeah, he was. But the nightmares and insomnia got worse… until this week."

"What happened this week?" he asked.

"I decided to find you. I all but threatened Garcia into helping me find you," she confessed.

They were silent for a few minutes. "Now that you found me, what do we do?" Hotch asked. He'd dreamed of meeting Emily again, of having that life with her that he thought would be possible. But now she was here and he didn't know what to do.

"I don't know…" Emily admitted. "I'm tired, Aaron. I'm tired of being alone, of being transient in my own life… and I'm tired of dealing with these cases all the time. I like that we help stop the unsubs, but… I don't want it to be my whole life anymore." She sighed, bracing herself for the biggest leap. "And I want you. I want to be able to sit with you like we are right now. To talk…," she smiled slyly, "and do other things. I want to be with someone who sees and accepts all of me, and not just the bits that he likes or the parts he can accept."

Aaron lifted her hand to his lips, kissing it softly before placing it back in his lap. "I see you, Emily. I see the brilliant, amazing, resilient woman that you are. I don't care that you're hilariously nerdy and could probably beat me in a shooting contest. I love that about you. And I love your dimples when you smile," he said, reaching over to brush a finger down the dent in her cheek as she grinned at him.

"Maybe…" she started, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Maybe what?" Aaron asked.

"I haven't used any of my vacation time. Maybe I can stay awhile…?" she tentatively asked, her body relaxing in to his.

"I wouldn't mind that," he told her, closing his eyes and stroking his hand down her dark hair. "I definitely wouldn't mind that at all."

Emily closed her eyes, reveling in his nearness and the warmth emanating from his body. Aaron shifted a bit so he could wrap his arm around her smaller frame, pull her closer to him.

As he drifted off with Emily pressed against him, Aaron made a final confession, "I'm so glad you're here, Emily. I missed you," he told her.

Closing her eyes, Emily sighed happily. "I didn't say it before. I should have though. I love you, too, Aaron."

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed this. Thanks again to greengirl82 for writing a great story and then letting me play with it a bit!<strong>


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